call it what you want || nygmobblepot x oc ✅

...Ready For It?

New fic!! This takes place mid-Gotham, during season 3 and parts of s4.

Things you should know about this fic:

Gabe, one of Oswald's goons, is canonically the one to cut the brakes on Isabella's car. In this fic, our main character Five does it. Also, I wrote this two years ago and it is AWFUL I'm so sorry you're reading this now

Anyway, here we go!

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POV Five Jackson (pre season 3, post Kristen Kringle's death, Edward is out of Arkham)

~ two weeks ago ~

"Kristen," I whisper, body rigid with shock. My heart is a yawning chasm threatening to swallow me whole. I cannot even register what I'm witnessing.

My estranged older sister is dead. Just as I found her again. Just as we were starting to work our way out of our father's abusive embrace.

No, instead, she's dead at the hands of a... a nerd from the GCPD who shouldn't even be let out of his house. And what I should have done, was killed him where he stood with her body. I didn't.

Let me rewind.

I had four other siblings. An brother who died of malnutrition in infancy, two sisters, one older, one much younger; and a brother just a year older than me- all dead now, of course. Or so I thought. One sister dead by my father's hand,  my older brother was shot by the GCPD for trying to steal food to feed our little brother. My other sister was supposedly abducted. One day she just disappeared. She was the first to go.

Until a week ago, when I discovered her again, under a fake last name, working for the very police department that killed our sibling. In a way, it couldn't have been a better coverup- nobody'd expect us to work for the GCPD.

I'd reached out- talked to her. We went out for coffee. She cried at the deaths of everyone else when I recounted them. She was the best big sister i could have hoped for.

And now she's gone, my blood is running cold and I'm following the man carrying her fucking corpse to the police.

I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret this.

~ present ~

POV Five Jackson, post Kristen's death but before Riddler's escape from Arkham

"Absolutely fucking not," I swear, making for a back exit in the club. He's here, holding up the place, demanding information. I don't know who he thinks is in here, but obviously it isn't who he's looking for. All of the people in this dingy club are addicts or dealers. My friends.

Not only that, but I'd know his face anywhere. He's the man who killed my sister. I'm not afraid of him. No, I'm so angry I could kill him where he stands with no regrets. I knew he was a killer from the first time I saw him. But I don't. He's got a gun and I have... knives. I'm alright at throwing them but I don't want to cause more of a scene. It is literally bringing a knife to a gunfight.

I'm not looking to die today.

"You! Stop." I hear his voice, Nygma's voice, and stop, tense. I don't turn around to look at him. I don't want to ever see him again.

There is no one else alive in the club. It's too quiet. My fists clench. I feel like I'm going to explode.

"Shut up," I hiss, finally.